


it's free real estate

by orphan_account



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23661376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: (Y/L/N) Realty, your family’s real estate company, is quickly crashing down — for the lack of a better word. What can you do to save it?The only options left are to sell it or you marry one of Massachusetts’s biggest assholes, Hugh Ransom Drysdale.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ransom does a come-hither gesture to you. the camera zooms in on his face. 
> 
> he smirks, saying, "it's free real estate."
> 
> Hi! This is actually my first time writing a multi-chapter fic, so I would really appreciate it if any of you take the time to support and/or criticize my work.

As the words attempted to process in your brain, your body froze in shock. A small, choked sound left your lips. Your widened eyes drilled holes into your father’s skull, making him terribly uncomfortable after a while of you incredulously staring him.

Your father has never seen you so livid. He was almost afraid, in fact. You were always so compliant to everything your parents ever said, until that moment in time. He watched as your left eye twitched, your jaw clenched to control an outburst from happening.

You can only utter one word, and it was a solid “no”. Your father shot you a look. You ignored it and said another negation in reply.

“Look, (Y/N), this will help our company,” he explained, displaying a show of exasperation by pinching the bridge of his nose. He heavily sighed when you didn’t budge.

“Dad, I studied and persevered for so many years to earn your position in this company in the future,” you countered, emphasizing every point through aggressively jamming your finger onto the surface of your father’s desk. “I won’t let you destroy it by forcing me to marry a man I don’t even know.”

“If you marry Hugh, our company will be merged with theirs,” you father reasoned. He began to speak once more, but you cut him off.

“Why not just buy their company?” you angrily replied. “Or sign a contract, whatever.”

You’ve learnt from your parents and every other rich couple with businesses that you should always marry for love. You have witnessed how miserable they are together compared to your parents (who act like they’re best friends, which is a bit weird, too), and you made a promise to yourself you would never end up like them.

“You know we don’t have the money for that. Mrs. Drysdale will either buy our company or we’ll merge (Y/L/N) Realty with Thrombey Real Estate,” he paused to take a breath, “You know we can’t continue on our own anymore, (Y/N). We can’t let all that hard work go to waste.”

You nodded in resignation. You silently accepted your father’s command. Indeed, you can’t let all those years of effort and preparation be for nothing. Leaving his office without a single word, you blinked back tears.

Linda rolled her eyes, seeing her son’s expression for the millionth time. She almost never seen her son’s face look any other way except for that visage of a child not getting what he wanted. He was a monster of her own creation, sometimes of which she regretted.

“What?” a quick, sharp question surfaced out of Ransom’s chest. He didn’t know what the “what” was for, but he needed a clarification.

“You’re going to marry the only daughter of the (Y/L/N)s,” Linda repeated, albeit more slowly. The condescending tone of her voice didn’t escape Ransom, but he decided to disregard it. For the time being.

“Yeah, I heard. I’m not a three year old,” he rudely clapped back to his mother. “But why?”

“You’re going to inherit my company in the future, whether you and I like it or not. So, I took it upon myself to ensure you have someone with you who is qualified and capable of running our company, which is going to be (Y/N). In addition, our companies will be merged,” Linda nonchalantly explained.

“Dad or someone else can inherit the company.”

“My dad made your dad sign a prenup,” she argued with more force. “And I want my company to stay in our family’s hands until its end.”

“Outrageous.”

Linda pulled out a cig and lit it, taking a drag before continuing. Ransom warily looked at the cancer stick, not because he’s worried of her smoking it, but because he’s worried of inhaling the fumes. He scrunched his nose at the smell of burning that quickly filled the room. 

“I would lie and say that I trust you, yet I won’t. Don’t mess this up. This is how you can prove yourself to me that you’re actually useful to this family.”

Ransom fought the urge to protest against her statement. He didn’t need to prove anything. He’s fine as he is, he thought. 

Linda took another drag of her cigarette, dismissing her son out of her office with a lazy wave of her hand to the door. 

Ransom left before she could even move her wrist.


	2. I'm Allergic to You

“Why did it need happen in their family event, again?” you asked for the umpteenth time, bitterly adjusting your bracelet as nervous tic. 

“It’s a meet-cute,” your mother softly said. She reassuringly patted your arm from the passenger seat.

You had an urge to ask your mother if she really knows what a “meet-cute” is but decided against it. You swallowed a small laugh with a cough.

“We’re almost there,” your father announced with obvious excitement in his voice. Your parents are both huge fans of Linda’s father Harlan’s work, so they can’t help but gush at the fact they’re attending an event in his house with him in it.

The silver Volkswagen of your father was parked on the gravel in front of the house, beside dark SUVs and a small black car.

Harlan Thrombey’s large red brick manor loomed over the three of you as you stepped out of the vehicle one by one. Your eyes studied the Victorian-era architecture and, in result, concluded that it looked like it came from a horror movie. You thought it was equally scary and alluring, if that even exists.

“Oh my God, I’m so excited,” your mother’s shaky voice whispered.

“Me, too,” your father added, basking in the marvel that was Harlan’s house.

Your parents’ gaping ended when two dogs came barrelling towards them, trying to lick them in greeting. You recited a silent prayer to thank whoever is responsible that they didn’t come near you, but then a voice of a woman interrupted it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. (Y/L/N),” Linda apologized while driving the dogs away. “My father lets those two loose all the time. Please, come in.”

Your family thanked Linda as they walked towards the front door, leaving the energetic dogs disappointed.

Another stifled laugh escaped you as you observed your parents trying not to gawk at the interior of their literary hero’s abode.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), I’m sorry for being rude,” she chuckled, “I’m Linda, Ransom’s mother.”

She held out a hand and you firmly shook it.

“Please, just call me (Y/N), Mrs. Drysdale,” you said. Might as well be friends with her, you thought.

“Then call me Linda,” she said, letting out a fake laugh for pleasantries. You smile back at her.

“Richard!” she called out. “They’re here!”

A man popped out of the doorway. He shot a friendly grin at the three of you. His blue eyes only held a small bit of warmth, but you accept it. You gave him a small close-lipped grin in return.

He seemed like the kind of uncle who tries to act like the cool one but actually isn't. 

“I’m Richard, Ransom’s father,” he introduced himself. He shook hands with all of you, maintaining his cheerful demeanor.

You each introduced yourselves to him, exchanging formalities.

“Where’s Hugh?” your father asked the said man’s parents.

“Oh, he’s late,” Linda answered, pursing her lips in displeasure.

“He’s always like that,” Richard continued for his wife. “We’re sorry.”

Your brows rose at the new information that you were being fed with.

All of you turned your heads to the front door as a screech was heard from the outside.

Ransom’s white BMW abruptly stopped, right behind a silver Volkswagen that he wasn’t familiar with. Hmm, did someone buy a new car?

He quickly jogged to the front door, already hearing the angry barks of his grandfather’s dogs following him.

He stepped inside his grandfather’s house without a warning, except for the ruckus his car and those wretched dogs caused. His eyebrows furrowed at the attention put on him. His parents are normally not silent.

You turned your body around to face him, already attempting to evaluate what kind of human he really is from the get-go. You looked him up and down, noticing his expensive but ripped clothing. He clearly didn’t care about the price of what he’s wearing if he’s letting them be destroyed like that. To be frank, he would look homeless if his clothes didn’t look new except for the rips and tears. Admittedly, he is handsome, though.

“Where’s the others?” Ransom asked, hanging his sunglasses over the neckline of his t-shirt. He ignored your family as he waited for his parents to answer.

“In the other room,” Richard said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

You looked back and forth between them and you could certainly tell there is a resemblance. They had the same eyes and hunched posture. Except that with Hugh, his back is definitely straighter than his father’s. More confident and sure of himself.

“Oh, well then,” he said, shrugging.

“Ransom, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and her parents, (Y/F/N) and (Y/M/N),” Linda quickly introduced as her son moved across the room. She knows he has the attention span of a five year old, since he never really grew up.

He brazenly looked you up and down, his icy blue eyes freezing you with every millisecond he eyed you. His eyes momentarily stayed too long on your chest, so you crossed your arms. He watched you with a calculating stare.

You suddenly felt an itch in your nose. It twitched and a deafening sneeze escaped you in a flash. You covered your face in the crook of your elbow, saturating the material of your coat with disgusting nasopharyngeal fluids. You sniffed, sheepishly apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I’m allergic to dogs,” you stated, wiping your face with a handkerchief.

Hugh cocked a thick brow in curiosity. He’s not the only one who didn’t like those dogs then.

“Ransom?” Linda interjected, eyebrows raised while waiting for a response. Ransom rolled his eyes at his mother.

“Nice meeting you,” he coldly said, leaving you to head to the kitchen.

His departure left all of you in an awkward cloud that suffocated each and every one of you until Richard cleared his throat in hopes of trying to defuse it.

“Anyone want some drinks?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I told you that this is not beta'd?
> 
> This fic sucks bcs I have no beta. I'm sorry; every mistake is all my fault (including the bad writing).


	3. Social Awkwardness

Your attempts to be familiar with the Thrombeys turned out to be futile. No matter how much you try to be polite and seem approachable, they won’t let you in. You desperately needed a reason to avoid Ransom.

First, you went to talk to Joni and Walt, Ransom’s widowed aunt and jittery uncle, knowing the former is working with a start-up for her skincare company and the latter just became acting CEO of his father’s publishing house. You hoped to talk with them since you thought you they would understand you — as a business woman, at least — but they were both too invested in themselves (though Joni is more bearable).

You tried to chat with Donna, Walt’s wife; however, she only looks at you and nods, her eyes constantly opened wide like a frightened deer. When you tired of the one-sided conversation, you nodded and retreated.

Then, you flitted over to Jacob, a quiet thirteen year old in the corner, yet when you introduced yourself to him, he merely glanced at you. He instantly went back doing his own business like you weren’t there.

You simply can’t approach Fran or Marta because they were moving a lot around the room. Greatnana Wanetta doesn’t talk to anyone, choosing to blankly stare at the walls in reply if ever someone asks her a question. You sighed, quickly running out of options.

Thankfully, Harlan went up to you after your failure after failure of trying to mingle with his family. He was a very nice old man; he was extremely well-spoken and eloquent when he talked and charmingly eccentric (kind of like his house). You were having a pleasant time talking to him about random topics but then your parents stole him from you. They left you alone, once again.

Meg, Ransom and Jacob’s cousin, approached you with a pretty grin on her face. She first introduced yourself, which was a refreshing experience. She was fun to be with, even though you’ve only talked to her for only a few minutes.

You didn’t notice Ransom’s eyes following you around while you were pathetically trying to acquaint yourself with his family. He shook his head and snickered in amusement every time you fail to have a conversation with his strange family.

Your talk with Meg ended with Joni calling for her to run an errand. With no other people to mingle with in this party, you reluctantly glanced over to Hugh.

He was already looking at you, donning a smug smirk. He was clearly revelling in your suffering.


End file.
